Mogo wants to eat the Moon.

She’s sure there’s nothing greater

Than crunching on the rocky crust

And chomping on a crater.

Mogo wants to eat the Moon.

She’ll get there in a rocket,

And nibble til her belly’s full

Then save some in her pocket.

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Mogo wants to eat the Moon.

Digest it and absorb it.

She’ll wait to snatch a piece when it

Passes by in orbit.

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Mogo wants to eat the Moon

Next week or maybe sooner.

She just can’t wait another day

To lunch on something lunar.

Mogo wants to eat the Moon.

She’ll do this, she is sure.

One small step for man,

But a giant snack for her.

And when each month I see it wane

To a crescent in the night.

I wonder if she finally did

Manage to take a bite.